


Baking as a Euphemism

by alocalband



Series: OMGCP Tumblr Ficlets [1]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Cooking, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-06
Updated: 2017-02-06
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9576317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alocalband/pseuds/alocalband
Summary: Dex helping Bitty in the kitchen is such a regular occurrence lately that it takes Nursey a good couple of minutes to realize that Bitty isn’t actually in the room with them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on my Tumblr [here.](http://alocalband.tumblr.com/post/152753582805/dex-helping-bitty-in-the-kitchen-is-such-a-regular)

Dex helping Bitty in the kitchen is such a regular occurrence lately that it takes Nursey a good couple of minutes to realize that Bitty isn’t actually in the room with them.

He stops short where he’s stooped down low in front of the open fridge, looking for leftover pie, and blinks up at Dex’s back. “Yo, where’s Bits?”

Dex doesn’t bother turning around from where he’s stirring something on the stove. “Class I think? Not sure.”

“So you’re just… cooking. By yourself.” Nursey stands up and lets the fridge door swing closed, pie forgotten.

“I keep trying to tell you guys it’s not a big deal,” Dex huffs. “All you have to do is–”

“–follow the instructions, yeah yeah, whatever. _Why_ are you cooking?” Nursey narrows his eyes. “Is this for dibs?”

“Oh fuck off, Nurse. Unlike _some people,_ not everything I do around the Haus is just because I–”

But lightning strikes Nursey’s brain then, and his eyes widen, a smirk creeping onto his face despite how fast his heart suddenly starts beating. “Oh dude, hold up, is it _for a girl?_ ”

Dex’s shoulders tense, which basically confirms it in Nursey’s mind, and a million little things about this semester all click into place. The way Dex has started to loosen up a bit, still insufferably uptight and grumpy, but in a more endearing way than last year. How easily Dex has handled any lost game or poor practice this season, actually allowing Nursey’s comforting hand on his shoulder instead of brushing it off in favor of punching something.

Apparently none of this was the result of a natural maturation and character development. No, this was clearly the result of _falling for someone_.

Nursey swallows back bile and keeps his smirk firmly plastered on his face. “Are you _wooing_ someone with baked goods and home cooked meals? Oh man, your ears are starting to match your hair, Poindexter, you’re really smitten. Who’s the lucky lady?”

Dex sighs, long suffering, and finally turns around. His sleeves are rolled up to just below his elbows, putting his toned and extremely freckled forearms on display. He’s got flour smeared across one cheek, and the bottom hem of his flannel shirt is soaking wet where it meets his jeans at his hips. Whatever is currently simmering on the stovetop behind him smells amazing.

“There’s no girl, Nursey, and you know it. So drop it.”

“What I _know_ is that you have been way more _chill_ lately than I have ever seen you, and getting laid on the reg definitely has that effect on a guy. I mean, come on, you’re _cooking_ , dude. Without Bitty even asking you to.”

“I know you’re not this stupid, Derek.” Dex’s tone is careful and quiet, but firm. Not angry, but definitely serious. “If you’re going to chirp me for this, don’t make it about that.”

Nursey suddenly feels like he lost the thread somewhere, his brow furrowing in confusion. “About what?”

Dex rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his broad chest. “Fine, play dumb, asshole, but I’m not going to put up with it. Just because I– because I _bake_ now, and am finally _okay_ with it, that doesn’t mean you have the right to– to–“

“Hey, whoa, is ‘ _baking_ ,’ like some kind of euphemism or–”

“I’m cooking for _you_ , alright?”

Nursey blinks, stunned. “…What.”

Dex throws his arms out wide in exasperation. “You eat like shit unless Bitty cooks for us, but Bitty’s practically living at Jack’s now, so I… I just thought…” He loses steam abruptly, his words trailing off. 

“Oh.” Nursey stares at him dumbly for a long moment. “ _Oh_.”

Dex draws in a shuddering breath and ducks his head down to stare at his own scuffed sneakers. “There is no girl, Nurse. There’s just…” He waves a hand vaguely in front of him to gesture at the few feet of air between them.

The ensuing silence is as tense as it is awkward, and it looks like Dex is about ready to bolt for the nearest exit by the time Nursey manages to shake off his shock enough to speak. Even still, he desperately tries not to let the small kernel of hope blooming in his chest get too big. “Well, so, what are you making?”

“ _Don’t_ , alright? Don’t act like you–”

“I’m serious, man, what are you making?”

Dex purses his lips tightly and looks like he’s trying to decide if he trusts Nursey or not. At last he says, reluctantly, as though Nursey were pulling each word out of him by force. “Gnocchi. With a, uh, a pumpkin sage sauce.”

“That sounds fucking incredible. Is it almost done?”

“…Yes?” His tone remains suspicious.

Nursey musters up as much bravery as he can, feeling like he’s risking everything with a single step forward. With a hand placed on one of Dex’s biceps. With a quick tightening of his grip around the muscle, fingertips digging in just enough, he hopes, to suggest that he wishes he could hold on forever. “Good. I’m _starving_.”

Dex’s features soften in surprise, and that same fragile hope that Nursey feels gets reflected back at him in Dex’s amber eyes.

“And _that_ was _definitely_ a euphemism,” Nursey adds with a wink.

Dex groans loudly and shoves him away, turning back to the stove to better ignore his fellow D-man. 

But his ears are still a lovely shade of red. And his mouth is still quirked in a surprised but hopeful half-smile. And when Nursey pulls up beside him, throwing an arm around his shoulders for leverage as he leans in to get a good whiff of the simmering sauce, Dex relaxes into it like he’s been craving the contact just as much as Nursey has been. 

Nursey leaves his arm there, even as he straightens back up and has no reason to stand so close anymore. 

Wordlessly, Dex raises the hand that’s not busy stirring, and wraps his long, freckled fingers tightly around Nursey’s wrist to keep him there.


End file.
